


Wounds

by hanzopanzo (floralstiel)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Suicide Attempt, M/M, Nipple Play, Shimadacest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:52:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9159532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralstiel/pseuds/hanzopanzo
Summary: Hanzo had a scar low on his abdomen. Neither of them spoke of it—Genji traced it with his fingers late one night; Hanzo had turned away and said nothing—yet its weight hung between them as heavy as any chain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Shimadacest Week day 1: Forgiveness/Reconciliation!
> 
> All of this was written/posted on my phone (fucking road trips man) so pls forgive any errors you find! I'll probably comb through this later and fix anything I spot. 
> 
> I'm excited for the week to come!!!

Hanzo had a scar low on his abdomen. Neither of them spoke of it—Genji traced it with his fingers late one night; Hanzo had turned away and said nothing—yet its weight hung between them as heavy as any chain.

Their reunion had jarred Hanzo into a strange state, then again Genji hadn't known his brother for years, but the elder Shimada remained pensive yet moody in his presence.

“Brother,” he started, holding Hanzo still by his shoulders. “If I have offended you in some way, please, tell me.”

Hanzo chuffed a laugh and looked down at his hands on the sheets, gripping them lightly and smoothing over the fabric.

“You have done nothing wrong. I…I am a fool.”

Genji was startled into a laugh and Hanzo frowned, shooting him a glare.

“It's not like you to call yourself at fault,” Genji explained, pulling Hanzo closer. His brother regarded him coolly, face as expressive as Genji’s smooth faceplate, but allowed the contact, stretching as Genji allowed his fingers to wander over his brother’s broad shoulders and neckline, massaging away the tension he felt knotted in the muscle.

“Yet I am at fault,” Hanzo strained to speak, shivering as Genji’s fingers moved lower, to the dip between his exposed pecs.

“For what?”

Hanzo groaned—thin and reedy, half-restrained yet Genji knew his brother well, knew exactly where to knead and pluck—and dropped his head back onto Genji's shoulder, limply pressing his face into the smooth cables that formed Genji's neck. It tickled a little, Hanzo's quick breaths, but otherwise was light and pleasant.

“I…”

“Tell me, brother.”

Hanzo moaned, unintentionally mouthing at Genji's neck. The younger shivered and held him closer, grabbing handfuls of his brother’s chest so casually, like second nature, and framed his nipples with his fingers. He lightly plucked and teased at them, satisfied as Hanzo jerked and sighed, pushing or pulling away from the contact whenever he saw fit.

“Tell me,” Genji repeated, synthetic voice purring directly into Hanzo’s ear. The older man choked on a gasp when his nipples were pinched a shade too hard, leaving them rosy and peaked.

“I never apologized,” Hanzo finally gasped out. It was so unexpected Genji froze, hands still cupping his brother’s chest. He felt only a little foolish, deftly switching to a close embrace instead. His palm skittered over Hanzo's scar.

“I know that you have forgiven me. And I spent all those years honoring your memory, yet I still…even now, seeing you alive, accepting me as you have, I still have not apologized.”

Genji drummed his fingers over Hanzo’s abdomen, tracing over the lines of his muscles, his scar.

“If you know I have forgiven you, why do you still carry this weight with you?” Genji tapped at the scar, at that unspoken secret. Hanzo ducked his head.

“It is my burden to bear, and my business how I carry it.”

“Apology accepted, then,” Genji hummed. “On one condition.”

“And that is?” Hanzo asked with weary affection, obtained only by being a sibling.

“I accept your apology only if you work on forgiving yourself, as I requested of you before.”

"Genji…” Hanzo sighed, resigned. Genji hummed and rested his chin on Hanzo’s head, careful not to dig too hard with his visor. A small part of him burned to feel his brother's hair, his skin, the tight clutch of his body again with his own two hands, his real hands. But Genji had long come to terms with his new circumstances. He'd learned to take pleasure in new things, in new ways.

“Well, brother?” Genji laughed on a sigh, feeling over Hanzo’s tattooed arm as best he could through synthetic nerves.

"Agreed," Hanzo spoke softly. The beginnings of rain pattered against the porch outside, and while the sky was dull, the day grey and slow, it was pleasant indoors, spending a lazy day in bed.

“Brother,” Genji breathed, voice tinny and synthesized, but it garnered the same reaction, a shiver up Hanzo’s carefully arched spine. A work of art. Genji allowed his hands to wander, resuming their earlier work, bringing Hanzo to the point of breathless pleasure once again.

"Please," Hanzo whimpered, Genji focused on his petal pink lips glistening with spit. He wanted…he was fucking burning…

“Please,” Hanzo repeated, licking his lips again, “let me…let me see.”

Genji didn't need to be told twice. With Hanzo craning his neck to see, Genji reached up and pressed the small latch by his visor. The faceplate slid off with a hiss, and Genji took a moment to blink, to adjust to his biological vision, then he looked down to his brother. Hanzo looked close to weeping, his sweeping brows furrowed, wrinkling his face in despair. Genji sighed softly and cupped his brother's face, smoothing over a proud cheekbone with his thumb.

"I'm making a silly face right now, just so you know,” Genji quipped. The spell was broken, and Hanzo laughed wetly.

"If I could see those eyes again every day, I would be a happier man,” Hanzo smiled, voice nearly too soft to make out.

"Deal,” Genji smiled, popping his visor back on. He could leave it off longer, he was tempted, but it would only end with him in the medical ward receiving a once over and dressing down by Angela. For now he settled for dropping his hands lower, brushing through the folds of his brother's sleeping clothes, easily finding Hanzo’s waning interest. He brought him up and over the edge more times than he could remember, until he was satisfied, until Hanzo lay spent and asleep by his side, face smooth and clear of worry, as it did only when the man slept.

Genji let his vents click open, steaming the room with discharge. It was still raining. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

 


End file.
